


Hurts Like Hell

by DarkAlpha67



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Consensual Underage Sex, Derek Hale Dies, Grief/Mourning, Love Confessions, M/M, No Braeden/Derek Hale, Sterek-centric, Stiles and Derek were together, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, graphic depiction of sex, just pure angst, no one knew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:17:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10509897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Everything around him evaporated and Stiles couldn’t do anything about it because to the others they have just lost a friend.It’s not as if his whole world was gone… because no one knew….*Derek dies instead of turning into a wolf in Season 4, ep 12.And no one knew that Stiles was breaking inside because  no one knew they were together..





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow... I have no idea where this came from... I blame that song and those heart breaking words.
> 
> I normally don't write angst centered fics and I probably made some mistakes (Didn't watch the episode), so please forgive me for that.

_I don’t want them to know the secrets…_

_I don’t want them to know the way I loved you…_

_I don’t think they understand it, no…_

_I don’t think they would accept me, no…_

 

 

He hadn’t moved. He remained frozen, standing there, staring off into nothing. Because that was what’s in front of him. Absolutely nothing.

He came back for him. After he saved Scott, he came back and then everything around him collapsed. Braeden was there, crying over his still body. He wanted to walk, he wanted to walk over there, punch Derek because maybe Derek was unconscious.

But he couldn’t move.

Because he knew… Derek wasn’t unconscious.

Everything around him evaporated and Stiles couldn’t do anything about it because to the others they have just lost a friend.

It’s not as if his whole world was gone… because no one knew….

No one knew….

 

*

 

_The bed creaked under them and Stiles let out a loud, pleasurable groan as he emptied himself in Derek. The werewolf threw his head back, his eyes closed, complete and utter bliss expressed and Stiles gave into himself with one last, slow thrust before his body fell and he dropped on top of Derek._

_The werewolf turned them around, and they both let out a disapproving moan when Stiles slipped out of him. Derek closed his eyes, leaning his sweaty forehead against Stiles’, his arm curled around him, his fingers slowly moving up and down his spine._

_Stiles sighed, feeling indescribably happy and at peace. He wanted to stay here. He never wanted to leave this small bubble of love and contented that they have made for themselves._

_“I missed you so much.” Derek whispered in the dark._

_Stiles hummed, reaching up and cupped Derek’s jaw. He ran his fingers over his cheek bone, scratching his blunt nails against his stubble that pricked his palm._

_“I’ve missed this…”_

_Stiles willed his eyes to open, locking them onto those green-grey orbs that not even a few minutes ago were darkened with lust._

_“Me too.” He said, smiling softly._

_And he had missed this. He missed everything because he knew, once he left the comfort of Derek’s bed they would be back to their usual roles in the McCall Pack. Two people who were forced together and who somewhere along the lines earned each other’s trust._

_They would be Stiles, the boy who ran with wolves, and Derek, the boy who lost everything he held dear._

_“I don’t want you to go.” Derek said softly, his voice barely above a whisper._

_He sounded sad and Stiles hated that. He hated that he had that power over him, the power to make him happy but also the make him sad. He never had that, and it scared him every day._

_“I’m not going anywhere.”_

_And they both knew, that those words held more meaning than they should have._

 

*

 

They had a quiet ceremony. Stiles remembered Derek talking about Laura and the funeral he had for her. A funeral only he attended and a funeral only he knew about.

So, in honor of the werewolf who changed their lives and saved their lives without having to be asked, they buried him in the Hale land.

Scott dug the grave and Stiles and Malia lowered him down into the ground. Stiles held his tears back. Braeden gave him a sad and comforting smile but Stiles only nodded. She knew. Derek told her after she questioned him left to right as to why Stiles was around so much.

Scott and Stiles grabbed the shovels and tossed dirt into the hole. Stiles looked everywhere but at Derek’s white linen covered body. He doesn’t watch as soil fell on Derek’s body, covering him, burying him within the ground.

His father stood tall, his hands clasped respectfully in front of him. Lydia was holding Malia, who stared coldly at the grave.

Stiles got tired fairly quickly. He had to keep his tears at bay. He had to be strong.

His father took over and with the help of Scott and Liam, the hole was covered with soil, holding the one person who held his heart in a cocoon of dirt.

Scott spoke, “Derek… was a good and complicated man. He did everything in his power to help those he loved and to help strangers, even if he didn’t have to. He helped me and guided me and without him… I know none of us would be here right now.”

Stiles felt his throat close within, choking him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move.

Everyone said something.

Lydia spoke about Derek’s forgiving heart.

Malia talked about his desire the protect everything around him.

John spoke about his honor.

Liam said nothing, only shook his head when Scott looked at him.

Braeden took a step forward. She had been standing next to Stiles, offering him her presence as comfort.

“Derek was a man that did a lot of wrong things for the right reason. He saw something in everyone standing here, long before either of you saw it. He loved and he cared. He held people close to his heart… And he loved the one who held _his_ heart more than life itself.”

Stiles’ eyes burned.

“And a love like that will be everlasting, something not even death can vanquish.”

They were all too grief-stricken to notice Braeden taking a step back and giving his clenched fist a squeeze.

“A legend never dies…” Lydia said, her voice soft and sorrowful. “Because he lives on through us.”

 

*

 

_He felt warm. Derek had his arms wrapped tightly around him as they say on his bed, in nothing but sweats. His chest is warm, burning against Stiles’ back. His thumb stroked his wrist and Stiles sighed._

_“I love you.”_

_His voice was rough as he whispered into the silence._

_Derek tensed up behind him, his arms flexing as he tightened his grip on Stiles._

_“Just thought I should let you know.” Stiles shrugged and they continued to read the book in front of them._

 

*

 

He stepped into the loft. The silence was deafening. He left soon after the burial, getting his jeep and sped off.

He looked around, remembering Derek and his smile. He looked at the couch, thinking of Derek who as heavy as he was, loved laying on top of him, his ear pressed against Stiles’ chest, his breathing matching his.

His feet moved slowly, his knees buckling with each step. As he got closer to the bed, he let out a heart wrenching sob. A dam broke and his tears came flooding out.

He sunk down, falling onto the mattress. He bowed his head, shoved his fingers through his hair, gripping onto the strands painfully. He wanted to the tug at them, wanted to hit something. His heart broke with each sob and he felt sick because why was his heart hurting?

He lost his heart the moment Derek took his last breathe.

 

*

 

_“God, I love you. I love you. I love you.”_

_He kept repeating over and over as Derek pushed into him. Stiles was numb, his fingers curled into the strands of Derek’s hair, tugging at it. Derek bit and licked at his neck, his intent obvious. He planned to mark him, to leave a physical trace of this night._

_With one final thrust they fell apart together. Stiles shook beneath him, his eyes were rolled so far back into his head. Derek shuttered, panting into the juncture between his shoulder and neck._

_He turned his head, his warm breath washing over the shell of Stiles’ ear. “I love you too.”_

_Stiles tightened his hold on him, his arm that was wrapped around his back drew him closer and he fist Derek’s hair. He turned his head, slanting their mouths together in wet kiss, moving and sucking on his boyfriend’s upper lip. Their tongues met and a shiver of lust coursed through his body._

_“I love you too.” Derek whispered against his mouth again._

_And Stiles felt the cloak of warmth instantaneously as the words sunk into him. With Derek still inside him, Stiles reached down, gripping onto Derek’s muscular ass cheek, digging his fingers into the taunt flesh._

_Derek pulled back and sunk into him once more._

 

*

 

In grief fueled anger, Stiles screamed. He screamed until his throat felt raw, burning from the lump that wouldn’t go away and the tears he had to hold in. He’s lung were begging for air, for him to breathe but Stiles couldn’t.

He reached over, grabbing onto the lamp that sat beside Derek’s bed. His fingers curled around the metal and he reared his arm back, throwing it against the wall.

“Fuck!”

He stood up, shoved the cabin were Derek kept all the books he owned and it fell to the side, crashing to the cold floor. The sound echoed through the loft, a deadly reminder that Stiles was alone.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

He threw everything he could get his hands on. He wanted to destroy everything, wanted to make as much noise as he could, enough that it drowned out the echoing silence. He screamed, as his hand scrapped against something, tearing the skin.

Blood spurted from the wound and Stiles stopped. He stared down at his hand and he felt… nothing.

As the blood rolled down the side of his hand, a single drop dangling from the edge before it fell, his eyes locked on something on the floor.

There, laying with the books on the floor, was a small photo frame.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” He muttered dropping to his knees, the bits of glass digging into his knees, into his hand as he picked it up.

 

*

 

_“Come on, baby, please!” Stiles begged, widening his eyes in a ridiculous manner, thrusting his bottom lip out._

_“Don’t make that face, you look like you are about to take a shit.” Derek commented, rolling his eyes._

_Stiles gasped. “Okay, first of all, that is the most unromanticist thing you have ever said to me. Second of all, gross and third of all, I will bug the fuck out of you until you do as I say.”_

_“Unromanticist?” Derek repeated, his eyes dancing with humor as he grin spread across his face._

_“Don’t try and change the subject. Come on, Der. We don’t have any photos together.”_

_There were sitting on their bed- Stiles wasn’t sure when **Derek’s** bed became **their** bed but he loved the sound of it- staring at each other, Derek more glaring than staring but who gave a shit about that. He needed a picture of them. He goes insane some nights in his room, as his insecure subconscious questioned if what he and Derek had was nothing but his mind being overly imaginative._

_“Stiles, you know werewolves can’t take pictures.”_

_“Then close your eyes, I don’t give a shit but I am getting a photo out of you.” He stated fiercely._

_Derek sighed, looking over at him. Then suddenly his eyes narrowed and he shifted forward. Their bend knees were pressed together and Derek took one of his legs, tossed it over his own before pulling Stiles closer._

_“What is this about, Stiles?”_

_He felt stupid all of the sudden. He knew it was very immature of him, to act like this over a photo and the fact that Derek **was** older than him, didn’t help matters at all. _

_“Nothing,” He lied through his teeth. “I just want a fucking photo, why does there have to be deeper meaning behind it?”_

_He sounded angry but Derek didn’t so much as blink at his tone._

_“I don’t need to have werewolf hearing to know you’re lying.” Derek said softly, his eyes urging Stiles be just tell him. “Stiles, come on, we promised. No secrets, not lying.”_

_He hated it when Derek threw his words back in his face, only this time, he hated himself for coming up with that stupid rule in the first place, even if it wasn’t really that stupid._

_“I just want to look at you and know that…” Stiles swallowed, looking down at his phone in his hands._

_“And know what?”_

_He took in a deep breath. “That I actually have you.”_

_Derek said nothing after that. Stiles started feeling nervous, shifting under his stare. Then Derek blinked, and with lighting speed he took Stiles’ phone out of his hand, and then lifted it up. He took Stiles’ jaw in his hand, his thumb stroking it softly and slowly._

_Then his lips were on his in a long, sweet kiss._

_And the flash went off._

 

*

 

“Come back. Come back. Come back.” Stiles cried into the photo, its glass frame cracked over their kissing faces.

He whispered the words over and over, rocking back and forth.

Strong arms wrapped around him and he froze, his eyes snapping open.

_No… it can’t be…_

“God, Stiles. I was so worried about you. The Pack has been looking everywhere for you.”

At the voice, his heart that once stood still crumbled into a million pieces. Disappointment laced with pain, caused a sob to break out from his sour and raw throat.

“Scott…” He heard someone say. “Scott, what happened here?”

Why were they all here? He looked up taking in all their faces, looking for those green-grey eyes but he couldn’t find them. Because he wasn’t there.

Scott tightened his hold on him and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, the tears continuing to leak out. He felt his best friend pull him to his chest and a hand covered his hand, the one holding onto the photo. He ripped his hand away.

_No! They’re not gonna take that away from him!_

“Scott… Look…” A muffled voice said somewhere in the distance.

There was a pause and Stiles’ heart squeezed, trying to hold whatever pieces were left together. Its shattered parts, sharp and jiggered, pricked at every other part of his body, forcing them to feel what it felt.

A firm hand gripped the back of his neck and soon his face was being shoved into a shoulder. “It’s okay, Stiles… It’s gonna be okay, son…”

_No… It’s not…_

_It’s never gonna be okay._

_Not without him…_

_Not without Derek…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Sequel. Reader asked for one and it gave me some ideas and this happened.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments on the first one. It meant a great deal to me seriously. It was the first time I liked that people said 'Fuck' when reading my story. Lol.
> 
> I wasn't planning on writing a sequel but you know how writing goes, when inspiration strikes you have no choice but to give in.
> 
> Lots of Love to everyone.

_I wanna scream_

_Is this a dream?_

_How could this happen,_

_Happen to me._

_This isn’t fair,_

_This nightmare._

_This kind of torture, I just can’t bare._

_I want you here._

 

 

 

Death…

It was a sick and twisted thing.

Stiles thought he felt its full torment when he saw the light drain from his mother’s eyes, when he felt the heavy weight of her hand in his as he clutched onto it. He thought he had been free from experiencing it once more, after all what could be worse than the death of his mom.

God, he had been so fucking stupid…

 

*

 

_“Stiles…”_

_He heard his dad’s muffled voice through his bedroom door. He laid there. He felt cold regardless of the three blankets that were covering him. He felt lost, he felt… empty._

_“Son…”_

_The door creaked open. Stiles did nothing. He just stared out in front of him, laying stiff and still on his bed, his face pressed against his pillow, its casing wet from the tears that refused to stop. They just kept flowing, a constant reminder of why he felt this way, a constant reminder that no amount of tears will take this dead feeling away._

_His bed sunk at his father’s weight. A hand landed on his shoulder. Stiles felt it… but his body wouldn’t react._

_His father sighed. “Scott’s here. You want me to let him in?”_

_Stiles lost his voice a long time ago._

 

*

 

His father talked to him… talked _at_ him. After a week of laying comatose in bed, he found a small amount of strength deep within in and stood up. His dad had told him, like he did every morning that he had left Stiles a clean towel and some clothes in the bathroom.

He walked to the bathroom.

He turned on the shower.

The bathroom filled with stream.

He stripped, feeling the filthy sweat soaked material fall off him, leaving him bare for the steam to cling to his skin.

He opened the shower curtain and step under the burning hot water. He knew every drop was falling on his skin, burning him, hurting him but still… he felt nothing.

He bowed his head, his chest tightening painfully and once more, Stiles wondered when he would stop crying. How much more tears could his body produce? How long does he have to cry before he had no more tears to spill?

With shaky hands, he took his cloth and soap and washed himself. His hands ran over his body, going through the motion.

Then his hands washed over his heart. His eyes landed on the tattoo.

 

*

 

_“What’s this?”_

_Stiles looked down at his chest, feeling the blush warm his cheeks. “Why it’s a tattoo, Derek.”_

_He rolled his eyes for good measure._

_Derek frowned at him, his thick brows pulling together as his eyes returned to the Triskelion within and through the two circles. He had been scared when he got it. He wanted to take Scott with, to help him through his minor fear of having tiny needles puncture his skin thousands of times while releasing a substance that will forever be embedded in his skin… But in the end, he went alone._

_They had been so busy with everything going on in Beacon Hills that Stiles hardly had time to see Derek much less take his shirt off in front of him._

_“Stiles, this is my family---“_

_He reached up and cupped his rough, prickly jaw. “I know. And I have thought it through so many times but man, with our life, it’s too short to second guess everything. I wanted to get something that linked my life with yours. This is it.”_

_Derek’s eyes flickered back and forth, glistening with emotions. “Linked…”_

_Stiles swallows nervously. “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s a serious word but I know how I feel about you and whatever happens… nothing is going to change that.”_

_“You don’t know that.” Derek insisted, shaking his head._

_Stiles hated the doubt and the worry he heard in Derek’s voice. He hated that past tragedies, and current troubles, has made it almost impossible for them to simply accept that what they have will not be snatched away from them._

_“And yet,” Stiles said, locking his eyes firmly with Derek’s. “I know.”_

 

*

 

“I know. I know. I know.” He muttered.

His head ached and the steam was making him dizzy. A sob tore through him and Stiles slammed his fists against the tiled walls in anger. The side of his fists connected with the cold hard surface, sending a sharp pain through the length of his arm before it died down and Stiles snagged. He lifted his hand for another strike, crying, wanting everything to just stop.

He dropped it weakly back down against the wall, the empty feeling taking over once more, taking any energy he had with it.

“I know…” He cried to no one…

He cried to _him_.

 

*

 

“Stiles…”

He swallowed and turned to look at his dad who was standing by the door. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, his face had lost all color and Stiles was taken back to the last time his dad looked like that…

_Mom._

Guilt clawed at him and Stiles’ eyes burned. He bit his lip and looked away from his father, down at the newly framed photo. He stared at it, taking in the contrast of their faces.

A sharp jawline with stubble covering every inch of skin and a smooth jaw, with moles dotting the side.

An up-turned nose and a down-slopped one with the tip hidden behind his.

Tanned skin stark against his pale complexion.

The only thing that they had in common was the small curve of a smile on the corner of their lips.

A wet drop fell on Derek’s face and Stiles let it.

He heard his dad move closer. His footsteps soft against Stiles’ floor and with every step, Stiles wished it was someone else. He wanted to hear those light steps once more, the kind that made it impossible for him to even know he had company…

The bed sunk next to him. His father’s familiar scent hit him and Stiles found himself leaning against his dad’s shoulder. He heard his dad letting out a soft shaky breath of shock.

This was the first time Stiles had allowed anyone to touch him since…

“You wanna talk about him?”

Stiles stared down at the photo once more.

Did he want to talk?

His dad knew Derek Hale… but was he ready for his father to know _Derek_...

 

*

 

_“What do you think my Dad will think of this?” Stiles asked, his fingers flying over the keyboard._

_“I think he would be very upset that you are googling how to kill a Djinn when you are supposed to be finishing your school paper.” A voice said behind him._

_“What?” Stiles paused, his fingers mid-way from pressing down on more keys. “No, not that!” He spun around to look at the werewolf that had taken over his bed._

_Derek raised his eyebrows at him._

_“I meant, what do you think he will think of this?” He raised a finger and swung it between the two of them. “Like do you think he would be pissed? Happy? Freaked out?”_

_The werewolf said nothing for a while and that made Stiles nervous. He knew it was an unspoken agreement that they would wait until the time was right to tell his dad the truth but now with the mess they were in and with the feeling that there will never be time to just be normal, Stiles feared that time will never come._

_“I think,” Derek voice pulled him back. “That no matter what, he will be happy for you.”_

_“Even if my happiness is a werewolf who is six years older than me?” He asked, doubt laced in his voice._

_Derek hardened his face and nodded. “Yes.”_

_Stiles stared at him, his eyes narrowed. Slowly a smile formed on his lips, a smile he tried to hide from Derek who was frowning at him. Not being able to help himself, Stiles pushed himself off the chair and made his way over to Derek._

_He straddled him, a smirk on his lips when Derek’s eyes widened. He sat back on his boyfriend’s thighs. He remained there, smiling at this amazing guy who was hidden for so long behind an angry wall and a hate-filled glare._

_“What?”_

_Stiles took his hand and laced their fingers together. “You suck at lying to me, we talked about this.”_

_Derek clenched his jaw as if forcing himself not to speak and Stiles gave him a smug smile._

_“Thank you.” Stiles whispered to him._

 

*

 

“You would have liked him.” He muttered painfully.

His dad said nothing and Stiles preferred that. He didn’t want to talk about him. He just wanted to go back in time, back to when everything was so much better than this Hell he was living in.

They didn’t speak for a while. John was looking at his son and Stiles was looking down at his photo.

Finally, John spoke. “Scott said he had no idea you two were together. That no one did.”

Stiles swallowed, a sick feeling erupting in his gut. He bit his lip to keep the tears in, not wanting his father to see him like that again.

“I understand why you didn’t say anything Stiles, I do. But you need to understand, kiddo, keeping this pain in will destroy you and I may not know Derek like you did but I know he wouldn’t want you to lose yourself over this.”

_No… he wouldn’t._

He would have been here, holding him, saying nothing. He would have done what he did best, understand and accept, instead of worry and pity. That was Derek Hale… who learned from his mistakes and did everything in his power to keep others safe.

Even if he might end up hurting them…

 

*

 

_“He loved you.” Braeden said the day she decided to leave._

_She came to visit him and because she was the only one who knew about him and Derek, Stiles had allowed her to come in. She said nothing when she saw him. She simply looked him in the eye and for the first time Stiles felt… not so alone._

_When he said nothing to that, she had taken a seat by his chair. Her brown eyes bore into his._

_“When he was dying, he told me, **begged** me to tell you he tried. He didn’t want to go Stiles but he knew he had no choice.” _

_Tears sprung from his eyes and Stiles glared at her. What the fuck was she telling him this for?_

_“I’m leaving tomorrow. And you weren’t ready to hear this but Derek needed you to hear it, okay? He needs you to know that you were everything to him and that if it were up to him, he’d be here. He’d be here. Those were his words.”_

_They ran down his cheeks as Braeden spoke, her voice strong and hard, her eyes firm, revealing no emotions. She stared at him for a second before she gave a nod and stood up._

_His body moved, waking up for the first time. He forced himself out of bed, and over to her. She saw him and stopped. Neither said anything as Stiles wrapped his arms around her._

_They stayed there for a few seconds before Braeden pulled away with a small sniff and a clear of her throat._

_She looked at him. “You’re gonna be just fine, Stiles.”_

_And then she left._

 

*

 

They moved to the couch after a while. Stiles didn’t utter a word, he only clutched the photo close to his chest as his father walked around to get them a plate of food that Melissa made for them.

Stiles took small bites, the taste made him sick and with each thick swallow, Stiles had to force the food to stay down. After seven bites, he couldn’t anymore.

His dad said nothing when he pushed the plate away, just finished off his and took their plates to the kitchen, leaving him alone.

Stiles stared down at the photo. “I should hate you for making me feel like this.”

The words were muttered gravely and even he had a hard time hearing it.

He was so absorbed in the photo, that he never noticed his dad re-entering the room or walking toward him or taking a seat beside him.

It’s wasn’t until he spoke that Stiles realized he wasn’t alone anymore.

“You know… when your mom died, she took everything with her, everything but you.” Sheriff Stilinski’s voice was rough and soft at the same time. “And for a long time, I didn’t know how I could possibly continue living. I had no idea how to be the father you needed me to be. I had no idea how to be the deputy Beacon Hills needed me to be.”

Stiles looked over to his dad, his eyes glistening with tears.

His dad continued on, “And it took a while. It took my son having to carry me to a couch for me to realize that I needed to clean up my act. So I did. I did because not only did you need me but I knew, Claudia would be shaking her head at me if she saw me. It took time, Stiles—“

“I don’t need time.” Stiles cut him off sharply.

Sheriff Stilinski looked over to his son as if he was shocked Stiles had even spoken. And maybe he was. His voice was rough from disuse and it hurt his already raw throat to even speak but Stiles spoke anyway, needing someone to finally understand that no amount of comfort will take away the pain he was feeling.

“You gonna tell me that time will make everything better? That I am young and will find love again? That Derek wouldn’t want me to be like this? You don’t know him, none of you knew about us, about what we had, so don’t go around pretending like you did.” He spat out.

Sheriff Stilinski sighed and shook his head. “No, I’m not. Because you and I don’t give each other false hope. Years has gone by and there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t feel lost and empty without your mom. I can lie and tell you it will get better but it never will, son. What will get better is how you deal with that loss. And that _will_ take time.”

Stiles’ looked down at the photo at his father’s words. He ran his eyes over Derek’s face, forever captured in that moment, wishing that he could see that smile, the shy one where Derek would duck his head to hide it. He wanted to hear him laugh, that deep belly laugh that sounded so sweet and innocent to hm.

He wanted everything back. He wanted _Derek_ back.

“I love him so much, Dad.” Stiles choked out. “It’s not fair. This isn’t fair.” He shook his head and he felt his father’s arms wrap around him.

“He didn’t deserve to die…” Stiles cried out.

 

*

 

_He was dreaming. He knew he was, if his 12 fingers was anything to go by._

_He felt a deep-seat warmth and there was something hard against his back that moved every two seconds. A hot breath washed over his neck, sending chills down his spine._

_He smelt him. He knew that scent anywhere and he did what he always did, he burrowed back, deeper into the embrace._

_He grabbed the hand that laid limp against his stomach and laced their fingers together, bringing it up to press his lips against it._

_A heavy groan broke the silence. “Stiles…”_

_He bit his lip at the sound of that voice. His chest tightened, coiling until it burst from within, releasing a wave of emotions. He was trembling and the body moved behind him._

_“Stiles, hey…” He said so softly that Stiles laughed._

_It was a shaky and broken laugh but no amount of pain could overpower the joy he felt from hearing that voice, from hearing him say Stiles’ name._

_Stiles found himself being turned around, his back hitting the familiar mattress of their bed. A body hovered over his and the moonlight that streamed in through the window hit his face perfectly, illuminating his features, every hair, every curve of the facial bones and most importantly, it reflected those gorgeous eyes, making them paler that usually._

_“This isn’t real.” Stiles whispered sadly._

_Tears ran down his cheek and Derek did nothing to stop them. He shifted a bit until his entire body was pressed against Stiles’ and like always, Stiles lifted his one leg, bending it at the knee so Derek could nestle between his legs._

_Soft lips pressed against his and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut as more tears spill out. He reached up, tangling his fingers through Derek’s thick strands, holding on to him as he kissed him back with as much passion and love his entire body could express, and moving his lips against Derek’s deeply, curling their tongues together._

_He wrapped an arm around Derek’s bare back, feeling the soft burning skin against his. He tightening his hold, wanting to pull Derek as close to him as heavenly possible._

_“I need to breathe, Stiles.” Derek joked, chuckling against his lips._

_His heart squeezed. “No you don’t. You died remember?”_

_He felt him pull away but Stiles didn’t open his eyes._

_A warm hand cupped his cheek, a thumb stroking the tears away._

_“Stiles…” Derek sighed above him. “Come on, Stiles. Look at me.”_

_He didn’t want to._

_If he opened his eyes, he feared that Derek will vanish…. He feared that he will wake up from this peaceful dream._

_“It’s okay, you can open them…”_

_Stiles sucked in a deep breath, and then slowly, he forced his eyes to open. He glanced up and green-grey eyes met his. The relief that flooded him caused his body to sink into the mattress beneath him._

_“I’m not really dead, Stiles.” Derek said to him._

_Stiles glared at him. “The body I had to bury says otherwise.”_

_The werewolf pressed his lips together and let out a sigh through his nose._

_“I lost you, Derek. I had you… and you just—you just left.”_

_“I know, Stiles… I didn’t want to, believe me, I wanted to stay. Braeden told you right? She told you my message?”_

_Stiles gave a shaky nod. His lips quivered as he tried to keep his sob in. He replayed Braeden’s message over and over every night, every morning._

_“Stiles…” Derek’s voice called to him and he looked up, looking deep into those loving orbs. “We had something not many people are fortunate to have. We had a love that many won’t understand. We made memories, memories that will live on forever, no matter what happens.”_

_“I want you back.” Stiles cried. He reached up and grasped Derek’s face. “Do you hear me? I want you **back**!” _

_“I’ll always live inside you, Stiles. Your love will keep me alive. I will always be there, no matter what. I will be there when you no longer feel this unbearable pain.”_

_Stiles shook his head in denial._

_There was no getting over this!_

_Derek continued steadily. “I will be there when you finally get back that spark inside of you, that light that is still there, buried deep within. I will be there when you meet someone new—“_

_“No.” Stiles cut him off._

_“I will be there when you find it in your heart to love again.”_

_Stiles was shaking, trembling as he denied everything that Derek said._

_“And I want you to know that loving you was one of the best things that could have happened to me and being loved by you was what finally gave me the will to live for that time.”_

_His slammed his eyes shut at the pain that ripped through his body. He cried, digging his blunt fingers into Derek’s skin so he could just stop telling him that he will be all right!_

_He will **never** be all right!_

_A heavy weight fell on his forehead and soft lips brushed against him. Stiles tried to chase it, to capture those lips but they were gone before he could even try._

_“I will live on in your memories, Stiles…”_

_He felt Derek’s presence fading and he tightened his hold on his face._

_“I will always love you…” He heard Derek whisper to him._

 

*

 

Stiles gasped, lurching up. His heart pounded painfully against his chest.

He looked out in front of him, his vision blurred. The room was dark, the moonlight being the only light shining through his open window. He reached up to clutch his chest, his fingers gripping on Derek’s red Henley that still smelt like him.

He looked over to other side of his bed. Reaching out to the space beside him, his palm landed on cold sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Plumb- I Want You Here

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the pain.
> 
> I hope you liked it.


End file.
